


First Day

by Captain_Revo



Category: Short Treks, Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Children of Mars, Gen, Rogue Synths, Utopia Planitia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22209133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Revo/pseuds/Captain_Revo
Summary: A young cardassian ensign has been stationed at utopia planitia to help with the relocation fleet to save Romulan people from the Hobus Supernova.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	First Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off the Children of Mars Short Trek, and the Picard trailer.

Darjan Wren opened her eyes as the transporter cycle completed. She hated beaming anywhere and always worried her head would be on backwards, or have feet for hands. She checked to make sure she was all in once piece and breathed a sigh of relief. She never told anyone of her fear, as things were tough enough for her without people making fun of her dread at being turned inside out. She took another deep breath. The air was clean, but after so much time on Earth she could tell it was recycled. The young cardassian girl stepped off the pad and took in her surroundings. The famed Utopia Planitia Shipyards of Mars, had been her dream assignment, so she had almost fainted when they had offered her an apprenticeship on one of the main construction docks in orbit. She loved building things, from her first tricorder, to a full hovercraft. She never considered herself to be exceptional academic, and often struggled to tell the difference between a quantum filament and a tachyon eddy, but when it came to building things she was top of her class. 

It had not always been easy, living on Earth, especially during the Dominion war. Her parents had been Central Command's ambassadors to Earth. Tragically, and ironically they had been killed during the war when the Breen attacked Starfleet headquarters. It had transpired that no one in Central Command had cared enough to inform them of the attack, and they had the misfortune of attending a meeting in San Francisco on that fateful day. Eight-hundred million cardassians where slaughtered at the end of the war; what was two more names lost to the cruelty of history?

During the war the people of Earth treated her with respect, but she could tell behind their eyes that they did not want her there. A quiet unease when she entered a room had become common place. After the planetary bombardment and the treaty was signed, their attitude turned more towards pity, as the Federation sent aid to Cardassia Prime to help rebuild after the slaughter, but there were still many that looked at her with loathing and fear. A constant reminder of the enemy that had faced, and the millions of lives that were lost because of her people's power hungry quest to be masters of the Quadrant. She could hardly blame them, she often felt the same way. Cardassians had a brutal history. The occupation of Bajor, the numerous wars of expansion, decades of conflict with the Federation. Her people were monsters. 

She walked along the clean corridors. The hum of plasma running through the conduits around her could be faintly heard, as starfleet engineers came and went about their business. Most of them took a double glance at her as he walked by. No doubt the war still played on many of their minds. As she passed a window she was greeted with a spectacular view of the surface of Mars, that showcased all the land based construction facilities. They dotted the landscape like pieces on a giant chessboard. On the main plant they appeared to be working on a Sovereign class ship. The sun peaked over the horizon and shimmered off the metallic hulls of the ships in orbit. It was breathtaking.

She never wanted to be a captain, she never even really wanted to serve on a ship. She just wanted to build them.

She continued down the corridor until she saw a sign for the construction foreman's office. She tapped on the door panel. After a moment it slid open. She walked in to a large room with numerous consoles around the walls. One person was in the room, a Vulcan sitting looking at a PADD, with his feet up on the desk. As she drew closer she could see that he wasn't Vulcan at all.

"You're a Romulan," she blurted out, already regretting it.

"Very astute, kid. I can see why you're in Stafleet," he replied, not bothering to look at her. "They are clearly sending me the brightest." 

She was taken back by the whole situation. A romulan with an attitude, working at Utopia Planitia, with what sounded like a New York accent. She stood there motionless, unable to speak. It was as if her brain could not process what was happening. He did not have the traditional romulan haircut that signified the comfortably of the Empire's subjects. He wore a simple grey uniform. A number of rips and burn marks were dotted around his arms. A pair of welding googles were perched on top of his head.

"I ain't got all day," he said, sharply.

She gathered herself and saluted. "Ensign Darjan Wren reporting for duty," before adding, "Sir."

"Relax kid, put your hand down," the romulan replied, still looking at his PADD.

A few moments of silence passed before he eventually turned his head slightly to see her awkwardly standing there. He muttered something under his breath and put his PADD down, took his feet off his desk, then swivelled his chair to look at her properly. 

He rolled his tongue around his mouth as he sized her up before eventually speaking. "What was your name again, Darjan is it?"

"Wren," she added. "Darjan Wren, Sir."

He nodded. "Wren, right, right. Listen Kid, lose the formality before I lose you. My name is Parak, and as you correctly identified I am indeed a Romulan. Not what you were expecting, am I right?"

"It's not common to see a Romulan, no," she said, quickly. The words stumbling out of her mouth. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Yeah, likewise Miss Cardassian," he retorted in a sarcastic but playful way. "I was a refugee from an attack in the Neutral Zone by some Klingons. Long story short I was rescued by a Starfleet crew and taken to Earth. Raised in the Bronx as you can probably tell by my refined accent. That's my story."

Dajan suspected there was a whole lot more to 'his story'. A romulan in Federation territory was almost unheard of. One working in Earth's solar system was almost an impossibility. 

"And you joined Starfleet?" she asked.

"No, never joined, didn't fancy it. Humans and Romulans have a long history. Two centuries of cold war will do that, and Starfleet is a little too buttoned up for my liking, but I got the skills they need and they are a pretty tolerant bunch most of the time, so I got a job here." Although, he thought to himself, in truth the much vaunted Federation tolerance had taken a hit in recent years. The Borg incursions, the Dominion war, conflicts with the klingons and the nearly catastrophic Shinzon attack had left the people of the Federation very jittery. Xenophobic attacks on aliens had been on the increase and many politicians wanted to close the Federation borders entirely.

"So you like it here?" she asked.

He snapped back out of his thoughts. "Yeah, I was just another grease monkey, doing his job."

"Grease... monkey?" she repeated slowly, starting to feel a little more at ease around him.

"Well, it's..., never mind, the thing is I was accepted and I rose up through the ranks and now I pretty much run the joint. Here, kid, train your peepers on this." He pointed out the window behind him. A starship was moored there.

"Is that a new class?" she asked, excitedly.

He let out a surprised laugh. "New class, oh my word, are you joking, that baby is over one hundred fifty years old."

She looked down at a control panel and saw the specs. A Magee class. She vaguely remembered the name from history class. Shran, the legendary Andorian of the 22nd century, had a ship of that class named after him that took part in the Battle at the Binary Stars. "Why are we constructing such an old ship?"

"Not constructing, renovating. Most ships with good maintenance can last well over a century, but after that they become obsolete. They will still get you where you need to go, but I wouldn't recommend fighting the Dominion in one. We keep them for testing new equipment, or in service as cargo ships, tugs, academy training ships, that sort of thing."

She looked further out the window and saw a number of older ship classes. "So why are you renovating so many?"

"For the relocation fleet." he said. causally. 

She looked at him blankly.

"Oh right, that's not common knowledge yet," he replied, snapping his fingers, "See, there's a star in the Hobus system, and it's going supernova any time now. When it blows it's going to destroy Romulus, Remus and a whole bunch of other systems. The Federation had agreed to help the relocation effort but we need more ships. A lot more. We have nearly a thousand ships ready to go. Initial ferry runs will begin shortly."

It had been a minor miracle that they had kept the fleet a secret for so long. The advantages of working in space away from prying eyes and reporters. Public opinion towards Romulans had been patchy at best. Shinzon's failed attempt at planet wide genocide nearly sparked a war when the people found out. If they learned of the fleet being built there would be many who would oppose such an operation. Starfleet was still rebuilding after the Dominion war and resources were not as plentiful as before. If news got out what was happening then it could cause chaos on both sides of the Neutral Zone. The public would have to be told eventually, but the hope is with a large enough amount of ships already constructed it would be difficult for anyone to appose it. It wasn't ideal, but they did not live in ideal times. 

"That's... that's horrendous."

"That's life, kid. The universe is one cold bitch, if you pardon my klingon. A star goes nova every second in the universe. Since you walked in the door we probably lost a trillion life forms, not that we ever heard of them." 

She had never thought of it that way. The sheer indifference the universe had to life. But she did know the Romulans, and even if they were often viewed as untrustworthy, they did not deserve this fate. "I'm so sorry that this is happening to your people."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't sweat it, I may share their DNA, but they ain't exactly my people," he turned to look at her sullen face. "But still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone cares what happens to a Romulan."

"Trust me, I know how that feels," she said, despondently, while ringing her hands.

He felt a wave of compassion as he looked at the young girl, almost like she was a version of himself he had forgotten. "I bet you do, kid," he added, softly.

"But why are we getting involved? Can't the Romulans handle it themselves? They are not short on resources." 

He snorted, "There's like five billion people on Romulus alone. Hobus is a massive star. This supernova could wipe out several sectors of life. Devron, Terix, Kimben, all gone like they never existed. They need all the help they can get."

"I guess your-" Her train of thought was cut off by an alarm. 

"What the hell?" Parak said, turning towards a console. "Proximity alarm!"

"What's happening?"

"A fleet of ships just dropped out of warp. It's- oh no."

"What is it?" she asked, nervously. 

"We gotta, go, we gotta-"

An explosion rocked the dock sending them both tumbling to the ground. Darjan hit the floor hard on her right shoulder, letting out an audible grunt of pain. As she looked up towards the window a beam of red light sliced through the upper section of the dock and into the Magee class. It cut through the hull like a hot knife through bolian cheese. She could see bodies being blown into space, as debris surged in every direction. Bits of hull and exposed conduits slammed against the window like hailstones in a thunderstorm. The next thing she knew Parak was grabbing her arm and forcing her back to her feet.

"Kid, we got to get out of here," he cried, while leading her out, his hand firmly around her wrist. She thought he might pull her shoulder out of its socket at first, until she gained her balance and momentum, and was able to keep up. 

Further explosions rippled along the superstructure as a second beam completed the job of the first, splitting the dock in two. They once again were sent crashing into the wall, as the structure began to spin out of control in the vacuum of space. The screams and panic of everyone around them filled her ears. People bumped and jostled their way past in a desperate attempt to get to a transporter. Glimpses of the triangular black ships whizzed past the windows, as they ran towards what they hoped was safety. She could briefly see the surface of Mars as the remnants of the dock continued to spin. The planet was redder than normal, as fires and explosions could be seen all across its surface. The black ships strafed the landscape, raining down more death and destruction. They continued to make their way to the transporter pad, unsure of exactly where they could beam to that would be safe.

They just made it to the transporter room when a loud explosion behind them ripped a section of the corridor in two. The transporter room door began to automatically close at the drop in pressure. Darjan felt the pull of the vacuum and turned her head only to see for the second time a number of people being blown into space, before the doors closed as she slammed into them, causing her head to snap back and hit the door hard. She blacked out amid the screams and explosions.

She opened her eyes. Her surroundings were peaceful and serene. The room was clean, and had no signs of damage. It took her a moment to realise she was in a sickbay. She turned her head to see her Romulan companion sitting beside her. His head resting in his left hand, as he rubbed his brow. 

"Parak," she said, weakly. The word barely escaping her lips.

He turned to look at her and jumped up excitedly. "Hey kid, you gave me quite a scare there."

"What... what happened?"

"The transporter bay acted as a lifeboat. We were sealed off. Once the attacking ships left, Starfleet was able to rescue us."

She rubbed her aching head. 

"How many died?" her words cold and blunt. Death was not a stranger to her.

"You shouldn't worry about-"

"How many?" she insisted.

He cleared his throat, "Early estimates put it at a little over three thousand, but there are all kinds of secondary explosions going off. They are trying to get the fires under control before a more catastrophic disaster occurs. Mars is a volatile planet and there are tends of thousands of people who need to be evacuated."

"What about the rescue fleet?" she said, dreading the response.

He looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "All gone," he said, softly.

She closed her eyes and rolled onto her side. She was unable to look at him, as the pain on his face only made it worse. It felt like the galaxy would never be the same again. 


End file.
